


Brittania

by Basingstoke



Series: Unfinished WIP clearinghouse [11]
Category: Sherlock (TV), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Crossover, M/M, Mutants
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Basingstoke/pseuds/Basingstoke





	Brittania

"Will you ever just trust me?" John asked. He was thoroughly exhausted. 

"Doubtful," Sherlock snapped. He turned his back. 

...

Meeting Mycroft Holmes explained a lot about England. "You just...nudge government policy and make it okay for mutants to live here. How can that possibly work? There aren't even any riots, not really. The whole mutant world wants to be English," John said. 

Mycroft smiled enigmatically. "It's in our best interests, don't you think? Brittania regains her strength."

"Are we going to reconquer the States? Honestly, I'd rather not." 

Mycroft laughed. It wasn't strictly a no.

...

Sherlock was the consulting brain for the League of Mutants, England's answer to the Avengers. John, of course, hadn't found that out until he'd bumped into Captain Britain at the front door. 

"Oh, uh. Excuse me." 

"No harm done," the Captain said, arching his eyebrow. He had bulletproof skin. Everyone knew that. "Is Sherlock in?" 

"I don't actually know. I'm the downstairs neighbor. I'm, ah, Captain John Watson, actually. Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers. I stood behind you a few times in Afghanistan." He stood to attention and saluted. They might be technically the same rank, but John had a hard time feeling that way. Captain Britain returned the salute. 

"What are you doing down there? Come up already," Sherlock shouted down the stairs. 

"Excuse me," Captain Britain said. John left to do the shopping.

...

He actually met Sherlock because Sherlock banged on the floor and shouted down the shared chimney. "You! Down there! Come up here!" 

Which made John exceedingly cross. "Why should I?" he yelled back. 

"Because you want to see what I'm doing and I need an assistant!"

There was a kind of logic in the demand. Truthfully, John was bored out of his skull and sick of being useless. So he went upstairs and met his neighbor. 

He knew a lot about his neighbor already, of course. He knew he was named Sherlock Holmes, he knew he was some kind of boffin, he knew he had some sort of physical disability that made it difficult to walk. Sherlock regularly shouted down the stairs for Mrs Hudson, even though she was their landlady, not his personal assistant. He had a lot of visitors, including Captain Britain and the police. 

Sherlock appeared at the top of the stairs. "Your limp is psychogenic," he said.

"Psychogenic doesn't mean it doesn't hurt," John said. He kept going at his own pace. 

Later, lying in bed, John will tell him: "I can split into multiple people. I used it on the battlefield to tend all the soldiers at once. Then I would come back together and I had all the memories; all the mes were still me. But I was bombed as I was giving first aid and one of my multiples was killed. When I came back together, right after, I had the memory of being bombed, even though my body is whole. I limp because I can't convince my body I have a leg." 

"How utterly idiotic," Sherlock will say. But that is in the future. 

Then, he said: "What's your name?" 

"John Watson. Is your name really Sherlock or is that one of those mutant handles?" 

"It's my name. How did you know I was a mutant?" 

"Uh--" And he wasn't sure. "You just look like one, I suppose?" 

Sherlock frowned. "I need some blood," he said. 

"All mine is in use," John said. 

"Don't be dull."

"What do you need it for?" John asked. 

"A control. I only have mutant blood."

"Out of luck."

Sherlock tilted his head. "Really? It doesn't show. I still need some, then, for a different experiment." He let out his breath and sat down in a chair at the top of the stairs as though exhausted. John leaned on his cane, also tired. It was draining forcing his body to do something it was convinced it couldn't. 

"What do you do?" 

Sherlock waved his hand. "Right now I'm working on a simple chemical test to determine if blood or tissue came from a mutant or a normal. It should aid police. I'm also interested in the differences between mutations that alter physiognomy and those that just give a person powers. Your blood will suffice for that investigation." 

...

Later, they will swim in the lake at Regent's Park at midnight, quite illegally, and John will climb out of the water onto a blanket with Sherlock's hand clinging wetly to his ankle. John will smile and shake his foot, but Sherlock, just his eyes above the water like a crocodile, won't let him go.

...

John kisses his sweet mouth. "Touch me all over," he says. "We'll take it from there." 

"I have more surprises," Sherlock says. 

"It's all fine." 

Sherlock has a thousand arguments why it's not fine, John knows this, but he can see Sherlock swallow them down. "You undress first," he says. 

John stays seated and takes off his jumper, shirt, belt. He stands for trousers, pants, socks, shoes. He's slightly hard. Not much. He sits down nude beside Sherlock. 

Sherlock looks down. "I'm not sure I want to. If you love me, you love me clothed," he says, looking up sharply with a frown.

"I fucking love you every which way," John says. He kisses him, first his lips, then his cheeks and throat, down to his gills, up to his ear ridges. He's embracing Sherlock through his pointy, confining clothes. "But I think you want to be naked with me," John says. 

Sherlock makes a noise in his throat. He presses his forehead to John's and splays his boneless fingers across his cheeks. 

...


End file.
